


Making Memories

by winternacht



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Desk Sex, Dubious Consent, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Implied One-sided Martin/Jon, M/M, Mind Manipulation, PWP without Porn, Rough Sex, Unaware Victim of Mind Manipulation, set during season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 17:30:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15868374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winternacht/pseuds/winternacht
Summary: "But he’d never really thought that way about Elias."





	Making Memories

Martin took a deep breath before knocking on Elias’ door. “You wanted to talk to me?”

Elias looked up from his laptop and smiled. A good sign. “Yes, do come in, please. Take a seat.”

Martin shuffled over to the chair in front of Elias’ desk and sat down. The sleeves of his jumper were stretched out enough to help hide his shaking hands, but at the same time, he wished he’d had the option of dressing a bit smarter for this conversation. Maybe even put on a tie, instead of wearing the same clothes as the previous day, slightly rumpled because he’d forgotten to fold them properly before simply throwing them over the chair next to the bed in the former storage room. At least he’d had the wherewithal to take them off instead of just falling asleep in them.

By contrast, Elias was dressed impeccably, as always. A well-tailored suit and an elegant tie, a subtle dark green that was easy on the eyes. Martin hadn’t seen his shoes, but he doubted they had anything in common with the shabby sneakers Martin had put on in his haste.

“Jon told me about your encounter with Jane Prentiss. A dreadful situation. I wish we could have done something about that sooner.” He sighed.

“But she had my phone!” Martin was quick to blurt out. “Nobody could have known.” Maybe if they had come to check on him… but then they would have probably been attacked as well. It was better that nobody had come.

“Still, as your employer, I do feel it was my responsibility.”

Guilt burnt in Martin’s chest. “But if I hadn’t gone to that flat…“

“I listened to the statement, of course,” Elias interrupted gently as Martin trailed off. “It’s good that you went. This is exactly the kind of initiative I’m looking for in an archival assistant.”

The acidic burn ebbed away, leaving a soothing warmth in its wake. “Really?”

“Of course. Especially considering that Prentiss is one of our current priorities. Now that we know that she’s targeting the Institute, it should be easier to find her. And it’s all thanks to you. If you hadn’t crossed her path, we might still be in the dark about her intentions.”

It had to be a dream, Martin thought. First Jon had believed him and offered him a place to stay, and now Elias…

“The reason I’ve called you here is to talk about Jon’s suggestion that you stay at the Institute. Of course, while the Archives are Jon’s domain, he doesn’t actually have the authority to make such a decision.”

Martin’s heart sunk again. And for a second, he could picture it vividly. _Walking around the table. Begging to be allowed to stay. Dropping to his knees before Elias’s turned chair and reaching for his fly and-_

“Fortunately, I do,” Elias continued, and Martin let out a shaky breath. But there are some details I need to discuss with you first. Just some formalities, you understand.”

Martin nodded, trying to focus on the bundle of papers Elias handed him.

* * *

Half an hour later, Martin was out of the office again, hardly able to believe his luck. He wouldn’t even be charged rent. And he would be allowed to stay until the Prentiss situation was resolved, which would now be the Institutes highest priority. And he would be allowed to finish early that day, so he could go to his apartment to retrieve what he needed, accompanied by one of the Institutes security guards.

The image from before returned just as vividly, though in a different light now _. Freeing Elias’s cock easily, competently. Smiling up at him before licking a smooth, wet line along his length._

Martin swallowed hard. The stress was really getting to him. Or rather, the sudden, unexpected lack of it. Or maybe he was simply frustrated. With Prentiss at his door, he’d hardly been in the mood for even a casual wank. Not that being in his workplace where he felt constantly watched should have any stirring effect on his libido, but apparently, it did. But he’d never really thought that way about Elias. Certainly not since he’d met Jon. The evening before, he’d been all Martin had had on his mind, still stunned that for once, he’d taken him seriously.

* * *

It kept happening. Whenever he encountered Elias, his mind was flooded with fantasies about him. _Elias grabbing his wrist and pulling him into the next storage. Or just pushing him against the wall where they were standing, grinding their hips together, one hand firmly over his mouth and breath hot on his neck before he pulled his collar down and sank his teeth into Martin’s flesh while he squirmed against him helplessly._

He started avoiding Elias. It was too much and too confusing. He’d always liked Elias. Sometimes, Jon would complain about his lack of action, blaming him for the state of the Archives, while Tim and Sasha mostly thought he was nice but boring. (Tim had told him once that he wouldn’t mind having a little fun with him, if only he were capable of having fun in a way that did not involve eternal budget spreadsheets. Martin had simply laughed and agreed back then.) But Elias had mostly been kind to him, the occasional stern lecture about the importance of being well-organised whenever he was late to work or misfiled a statement notwithstanding.

At night, he would revisit the images in his head. Trying to take the scenarios further but somehow incapable of doing so in a way that didn’t take him out of the fantasy, forcing him to replay them on loop as he jerked his cock roughly, just the way he was picturing Elias’s hand. Whatever it was, he wanted to just get it out of his system for good.

* * *

It was just his luck that there was a knock on his door when he’d finally put a hand down his pants.

“Just a second!” he called out, zipping himself up quickly and throwing on a jumper over his undershirt, unable to find something else.

Then, at the door, he hesitated. Swallowed. Checked the floor for worms. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me, Elias.”

Martin should have been relieved. But given what he’d been about to do, he almost wished it had been Prentiss instead. Carefully, he cracked the door open. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, there’s just a minor issue.” He let out a sigh. “I know it’s inappropriate, but I would like to ask you for a favour.”

Martin’s cheeks grew hot instantly at the thought of what such an inappropriate favour might entail.

“Y-yes?” He expected Elias to push the door open, make his way into Martin’s room and pull him over to the bed. And then-

“I know you’ve finished for today, but there was an unexpected late delivery of fire extinguishers. Unfortunately, due to some kind of _miscommunication_ , the ones intended for the Archives were delivered to my office instead. And since we’re the only ones still at the Institute at this hour, I was hoping you could help me move the boxes. I wouldn’t normally ask, but I have an important meeting with one of our investors in the morning, so I’d rather make sure things are in order.”

“Oh.” Martin wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. Then he caught himself. “I mean, yes, of course!”

They took the elevator to the floor where Elias’s office was. In the corridor, a couple of boxes had been deposited, nearly blocking the entrance. They were heavier than they looked, but the work helped Martin get his mind off things. Maybe he would be too tired to think afterwards.

Once they had carried them all to back to the elevator, Elias excused himself for a bit. When he joined Martin again, he’d taken off his suit jacket and was in the process of rolling up his shirt sleeves. Martin was transfixed by his forearms. It was impossible to see under the layers he usually wore, but they were muscular, firm lines clear in the stark fluorescent light of the elevator. Strong. No wonder Elias seemed hardly out of breath while Martin had to force himself not to pant from the effort.

“Can you push the button, please?” Martin nearly fell over one of the boxes in his rush to reach the panel.

They worked in silence, moving the boxes to one of the storage rooms, save for two, which they carried into Jon’s office. Martin was properly exhausted now, leaning against the desk as he tried to catch his breath, his undershirt sticking uncomfortably to his back. But at least Elias was now showing signs of exertion too; Martin watched a trickle of sweat slide down the side of his face, vanishing beneath his loosened collar.

Martin couldn’t tear his gaze off him as pictured Elias rewarding him for the favour. Sliding his hands beneath his shirt and- He bit his lips when he noticed he was getting hard.

“If-if that was everything, then I’ll go now!” he said hastily, but before he could have moved, Elias turned towards him. And then his eyes wandered down Martin’s body. Stopped. And Martin wished he could simply die on the spot.

“I’m really tired and I’d like to go to bed,” he babbled, trying to distract from the issue, but Elias had stepped closer. Close enough to reach for him if he tried to leave.

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?” His voice was a bit lower now, still rough from lack of breath, and Martin clutched the edge of the desk tighter.

“I’m sorry!” The embarrassment made him feel feverish. Had he been this obvious? “It’s not- I just-“

“You don’t have to apologise,” Elias said, stepping closer. Martin tried to say something, but any attempt at speaking or coherent thought was interrupted when Elias’s hand suddenly shot forward, rough between his legs, just short of a slap, just short of painful, and all Martin could do was gasp for air and whimper.

“Is this what you want?” It was and it wasn’t. He didn’t know. But what he did know was that it felt good. That it was what he _needed_. So he nodded helplessly.

Elias squeezed him and Martin moaned, nearly choking as the lack of air forced him to inhale sharply.

“I asked you a question.”

“Y-yes!”

“Good. Very good.” Elias smiled, but it wasn’t the kind smile he’d given him before. It was a smile that made his hairs stand on end, that made him want to run away fast. But instead, Martin clutched his shirt in his fist and pulled him closer, shivering in the heat that radiated from his body.

Grasping his hips, Elias spun him around and pushed him onto the desk with a hand to his neck. When he leaned over Martin, he couldn’t help grinding back against the hardness he encountered. Elias groaned in response, fingers briefly slipping off the zipper on Martin’s trousers he’d just reached.

Martin’s cock was already leaking by the time Elias pulled it free and started stroking him, mimicking the rhythm of the movement of his hips. Rough strokes, brutal thrusts that made the desk shake with their force. The wooden name plate started edging towards the edge; it was then that Martin became fully aware that Elias had bent him over Jon’s desk, _Jon’s_ , and then Elias tightened his grip around him, and the thoughts of Jon slipped from his grasp as he came. In his haze, he nearly missed Elias following suit. He remained on top of Martin, preventing him from gathering the fragments of his thoughts back together with fingers that ran gently through his damp hair and lips that rested against the side of his neck as he caught his breath.

* * *

Martin had hoped that this would be it; the itch had finally been scratched, and he wouldn’t think of Elias anymore. Indeed, he struggled to manifest the images from before in his mind, like the paling afterimages of a dream. But they had been replaced by something solid now; memories of the smell of wood polish and sweat, of animalistic noises echoing through the office, of the taste of Martin's own come and the softness of Elias’s skin beneath his tongue as Elias made him lick his hand clean, of Elias whispering that Martin had done well before kissing the shell of his ear and walking away.


End file.
